Enchanted, the Novelisation
by wildhorses1492
Summary: This is the novel version of my one-shot "Enchanted" by Taylor Swift. Set in pre-revolutionary times when Pirates abounded, and 'The blank spots on the map hadn't been filled in' yet, it charters Sam and Jake's romance, as they go against all societies' rules and traditions to be together!
1. Acknowledgments

_**This FanFic is for all the pirates of old, **_

_**those known and unknown legends, who make our fairytales what they are.**_

_**They helped the colonies before we became a nation, **_

_**and they helped us after as well. **_

_**They make our fiction movies and novels interesting, they make life on the sea, **_

_**and being always on the run look easy, and romantic. **_

_**But even if many things about them aren't true, this one thing is:**_

_**They loved their Freedom. **_

_**"A ship is not just a ship, it's also Freedom, **_

_**to go where you want and do what you Dare!" **_

_** Unknown Author**_

_**'The seas be ours and by the powers, where we want we'll roam!'**_

_**(I'm sure many of you know where that's from)**_

_**The Josiah Blacks, William Turners, Elizabeth Swanns, Jack Sparrows, Henry Everys and many more! **_

_**And so, this novel is for all those men and women who loved the siren song of the sea!**_


	2. Her first Ball

_** Enchanted the Novelization**_

* * *

"I don't want to go! Why do I have to go? Mother would've let me stay!" Samantha Anne Forster shouted angrily at her father, Lord Wyatt Forster, from the other side of her large bedroom.

"You must go in your mother's place, as she is no longer living."

Her father replied in a tone of voice that meant "Don't cross me", Sam ignored it. She knew she didn't look ready to have this battle of words with her father, dressed in her nightgown with naught but a robe, her red hair a tangle of knots, as she had just woken up less than half an hour ago. Her Grandmother, Duchess Grace Forster, sighed, and put a hand to her forehead in exasperation before straightening and speaking wearily;

"Samantha, you are sixteen years old, and its high time we started introducing you out into Society, you need to find an eligible young man, and marry."

"I don't know why we've let you have all these liberties, such as letting you have an education better befitting a boy your age. Perhaps we've spoiled you, letting you have all these private lessons, instead of sending you to a girl's school where you would've learned things befitting a young lady of your stature and nobility."

Sam felt that she was quickly losing ground with her father and grandmother; she did not want to go to one of these pathetic balls! Other girls her age talked of such downright boring things, like how many dresses they had, or which boy they were walking out with now.

How she hated such talk! She wanted to talk about the situation with the American Colonies, and how every merchantman and trade boat was practically food for the pirates that were rumored to roam the seas, about the problems with France. Her grandmother interrupted her thoughts about what she was going to use to argue with next by saying;

"Your mother would want you to go, Sammie dear. I could have Amalia and Hester make up one of her old gowns for you to wear, and perhaps have Betsy do your hair the way your mother used to do hers, would that pacify you?"

Sam knew she was caught, how tempting, to wear one of her mother's beautiful old gowns, and to have her hair styled just like her mother used to as well! They were being so cruel! Sam thought bitterly as she agreed to go. She watched with annoyance as her Grandmother smiled and nodded her head at Wyatt, as if saying silently; 'I _knew_ that would work!' before they left the room. Sam sighed and fell on her back into the bedclothes, she stared up into the canopy of her bed and thought,

"_Well, at least it's only for tonight!" _ Oh, how wrong she was.

* * *

Sir Lincoln, and his wife, Lady Roxanne, were the Hosts of the ball Sam and her father were attending. They presided over the small shire of Slocum, and it was gossiped that they were having marital troubles, but there was no definite evidence of this, aside from the frequent trips each had taken separately several times this year.

They had two children, twins, people still talked about how miraculous it was that Lady Roxanne lived through that ordeal, Rachel and Ryan. Sam didn't much like Rachel; she seemed too selfish and snobbish at times. Ryan was okay, or so her best friend Jen said.

Sam didn't really talk to anyone her own age; they just didn't have interesting to say. She didn't talk to boys because they felt they couldn't talk about anything of real importance with her, and she didn't talk to the girls because they never had anything worthwhile to say. So Sam was truly aggravated when her father asked Lady Roxanne if Rachel might help her meet someone her own age.

So, that was how she ended up with Rachel and her snobbish, gossiping friends, talking about various couples that walked, or danced by them.

Some man and a girl much younger than he would walk by, Rachel and her group would bob their heads, paste smiles on their faces, and maybe curtsy, then they're heads would go close together and the whispering would start as soon as they would go past hearing range. Or it would be a nice older couple, or, well, you get the idea. Just nothing interesting.

After a few times of that, Sam took to scanning the crowded hall, her eyes vacant of any expression, and then, when one of Rachel's groupies would ask her something she'd perk up and pretend to be listening, smiling and laughing even! She considered that quite a feat. When she started listlessly scanning the crowds for the third time, or was it the fourth? She noticed him.

He was standing off to the side slightly, talking to two other men, both older than he. He wasn't dressed for such a grand ball, he wore no overcoat, just a white linen shirt with billowed sleeves, black breaches, dark brown leather riding boots that came up to the knee, and a dark, blood-red sash, to which a dress cutlass with a glittering gold hilt, was attached. He had his straight, long black hair tied back with a simple piece of rope, nothing special.

Even though he was simply dressed, Sam thought that he had a quiet dignity; there was something about him that made you look at him twice. Made you realize that he was someone to be respected. As she was studying him, she noticed the men had moved on, and he was looking at her! She blushed and looked away with embarrassment.

"_How horrible to be caught staring at someone you don't even know!"_ She thought with chagrin.

When she looked over in his direction again, she was startled to see that he was still studying her, briefly he met her eyes. She knew that look, a "Have we met?" gaze. Most men her father had business with would look at her like that. She supposed that they were remembering her mother; Gram always said she looked like a younger version of Lady Louise.

As she turned back to Rachel and her gossiping groupies, she noticed out of the corner of her eye, the tall silhouette of the young man moving in her direction. When she turned to view the room again, she came practically face-to-face with the tall young man, before she could utter a word of apology, Rachel noticed him and exclaimed;

"Jacob! I didn't know Father and Mother had invited you! These are my friends, Carlotta Idantilma;

she's from Italy you know, Daisy Somersby, Katharina von Waldheim, Elizabeth Brooke, and Lady Samantha Forster.

She and her father, Lord Foster, are from Bristol, they have recently moved here. And this, ladies, is Jacob Ely; his father is a merchant with the Americans."

He nodded politely as she introduced each young lady in turn, and Rachel, having done her task of finding the new girl someone who was wealthy, young and suitable, went back to her gossip. Instead of walking off, like Sam thought he would do, Jacob turned back to her. When he opened his mouth to say something, she motioned for him to come a ways away from Rachel and her group. And then turned back to face him. She did not want they to gossip about _her_.

"Are you enjoying the ball?" He asked by way of conversation.

"No, I would much rather be riding. I don't really fancy balls." Samantha admitted. He nodded in agreement.

"I would as well; people don't seem to agree with me." Jacob said.

"Rachel said you're from America, is that true, because you don't seem to have an accent."

"It's true."

"What is the new world like? Do you have adventures, discover gold? Are there pirates?" Sam asked the excitement in her voice obvious.

"The 'New world' as you call it, is actually rather, boring. Anyway, I spend most of my time at sea." Jacob answered vaguely.

"Have you ever encountered any pirates?" Sam asked, not to be deterred.

"Perhaps." Jacob answered.

"Is Miss Slocum really your friend, because you seem much to kind to be friends with her?" Jake said, turning the conversation away from him and back to her.

"No, actually, she's just supposed to, well, chaperone me, until I become acquainted with someone."

"Well, you seem to have done that." He said with a smile. She smiled in return.

As the evening wore on, they talked of horses and the rich English aristocracy.

Sam forgot that she was supposed to stay with Rachel's group, and instead spent the entire evening with Jacob. She realized after they started talking that Jake was slightly shy.

But once he got past the shyness he was a fine companion for the ball. As the ball ended, just after 1:00 o'clock (a.m.) he drew her aside and told her how fascinating it had been to talk with her, and that he wished there were more girls who knew as much as her.

"It was enchanting to meet you, Lady Samantha." He said, bowing as he left the ballroom. Before she could say anything in return, her Grandmother came up and told her that they were leaving. Jacob smiled, bowed to the Duchess, and walked off.

"Samantha, who was that?" Grace asked curiously.

"Just an acquaintance of Rachel's I suppose, he's from America." Sam said, watching the doorway that he had exited. Graced eyed Sam's radiant face with annoyance._ Oh, please not an American!_ she thought.

"I do wish they would keep to their own country, instead of coming over here!" Grace muttered as she and Samantha were handed into the family carriage by Wyatt.

As the carriage got underway, Sam stared out at the night sky, wondering if she would ever see the dashing American again.

* * *

That night, she was unable to sleep, pacing back and forth, wishing he was still there, or would show up because now she was thinking of millions of questions that she hadn't asked him! like these for instance;

Does he love someone?

Is he in love with her, or she with him?

Does he have a wife?

Is someone waiting for him to come home every time he goes to sea?

And if so, is she American of British?

Suddenly, in the midst of her pacing, a knock sounded from the hall, on_ her_ door! She went to open it, praying in the back of her mind for... what? Someone she had just met? She hardly knew him! Her mind tried to reason with her unreasonable thoughts as she opened the heavy oak door.

Her grandmother was on the other side, and she looked not pleased.

"I noticed your candle was still burning Sam. It's 2 a.m.! you need to be in bed! Now turn out the lights and go to sleep, we have to get ready for another ball, the day after tomorrow!" Grace said, walking toward her own bedchambers.

Sam closed the door and leaned against it sighing. She stared out her window for awhile before she moved to her bed, tomorrow was a new day, after all, right?

* * *

**A/N: Short I know! but this is sort of a prologue to the rest of it, next chapter will be longer! I promise! ~ W.H.1492**

**(Spoilers: The next chapter is about Jake!)**


	3. Short Love

_** Enchanted the Novelization**_

* * *

**Chapter 2:**

What was wrong with him? he thought over the past week, wondering why he had braved so many nightmarish balls that he had no business being at in the first place? "_To see Lady Samantha."_ His mind whispered.

The first question was, Why?

Perhaps it was the fact, that she loved horses?

Didn't like balls?

Or just wanted to meet a pirate so badly?

Whatever the reason, he didn't know how explain his attraction to her. Was he falling for the beautiful young woman with fiery red hair, emerald green eyes, and an adventuresome attitude? As he was mulling over these disturbing thoughts, his longtime friend and trustworthy first mate, Darrell Rosittori burst through the captain's cabin door.

"What?" He barked out angrily, then instantly wishing he hadn't spoken so rudely to his friend. Darrell, frowning momentarily, said;

"Captain, ship on the horizon, and we're coming upon it at a fast rate!"

Jake sat up instantly alert.

"Colors? What kind of ship? how many guns?"

Darrell grinned devilishly and said;

"British, a merchant, only a bow chaser, and four cannon ports."

Jake was silent, thinking over this information. The last time they had come across a merchantman this slow and with such a small amount of firing power there had been an entire platoon of soldiers in the hold. He did not relish a similar mistake.

"Captain?" Darrell prompted uneasily. Ever since he had come back to sea he had had this broody silence surrounding him, and Darrell didn't like it. Just as Darrell was about to speak again, Jake grinned, saying,

"I'll need my cutlass."

Darrell just grinned in return, and then went back out onto the deck shouting to the men that "The Captain" was going to be present for this raid.

As Jake strode out on deck, he shouted orders to his small crew of only twenty-two men;

"Lucian, tell the men to get ready to board! Rory, Give the men cutlasses, and arm yourself man!

Ling-Chu, shorten that topsail! Ju-Ning-Po, haul that brace! Good work men!

Jem, tell every one not on deck to get up here!

Henri, put your French background to work, and give everyone who doesn't have a cutlass a pistol!

And for godsakes Daniel, tell that blasted German to fire across their bow! These people are about to learn the real power of the seas!"

Rory O'Donnell, a sixteen year old Scot, was young, but as expert a swordsman as could be desired. He was running from the Crown for being of royal Scottish blood some said, but he knew that the boy was running because he had been a spy.

Daniel Daniels, well, no one knew where he came from, Jake and Darrell had picked him up in Tortuga, but he spoke almost every known language, and loved the sea like any good sailor.

The German, one David Starr, he had been half dead when they found him, bloody as if he'd been trampled on, he practically begged on his hands and knees, in both German and French to be part of Jake's crew. He spoke only German and French. Pity only Daniel could speak to, and understand the man. But he had an uncanny ability to use cannons, he could do almost anything with them.

Henri L'Aoubor, a French aristocrat, but was now somehow on the run, he was excellent with a pistol and rapier, but was completely useless as a sailor.

Lucian Deringer, was from Britain, Jake didn't know much about him except the he would trust the man with his life.

**(I shall introduce you readers to the rest of the crew as** **the needs arise.)**

Jake, no longer needed, as his men were drilled in all their skills, climbed the rigging. As he leaned out over the ocean, marveling as always, how fast his ship was, he thought about what Samantha had asked him when he first met her;

_"Have you encountered any pirates?" _

_"Perhaps."_

Had been his reply. What would that British girl think of him if she knew that he _was_ the latest pirate fears that roamed the waters? Oddly enough, he thought she would be pleased. The thought disturbed him again, but it was forgotten, as he heard the report of his bow chaser. The shot went directly across the bow of the Merchantman, and he watched as the sailors on deck scurried about like rats.

"Hoist the colors!" He called down. He watched through his glass as the captain of the other ship saw what colors his ship flew.

"You will never forget this day Sir." Jake whispered aloud.

* * *

_**On the Merchantman:**_

The lookout shouted down the sighting of a ship coming full speed toward them, Captain Roger Montgomery took out his glass and trained it on the opposite ship.

_"Hmm, no flag yet, I hope... no, it couldn't be." _

The nervous Captain thought with unease. As the rogue ship came closer, he was able to get a glance at the name,

_"El Mar Hechicera" _

Good God help us." He whispered in fear.

_The Sea Enchantress _a simple, harmless name, if you were ignorant of the recent piratical scavenger that ruled uncharted, and charted waters of late, one of the many ships that struck fear into the heart of every captain of a lone ship at sea with no protection to speak of.

At the cannon fire, several crew members screamed in panic at the shot that hurtled across the bow.

He shouted orders at his crew, and they scrambled in fear, when, moments later, the lookout screamed that a flag was being hoisted. The grinning skull and crossed bones on the black field was enough to make a man's blood curdle.

Roger prayed that they would only look in the hold and not try to capture the ship.

He then preceded to order the ship to a complete and an abrupt as possible, stop.

moments later, the pirates swarmed aboard, and they went in the direction of the hold, and the cabins.

"We're Doomed." Captain Montgomery muttered, as he was ordered to surrender to a red-headed boy, not more than sixteen.

* * *

**_The Sea Enchantress:_**

Jake hadn't planned on boarding the "_Crown Jewel" _but when he heard the screams of several women, he instantly left the solitude of his cabin to go keep the moral of his motley crew.

Friendly and placid as they seemed on the outside, he wondered if he could trust the female hungry men with whatever bunch of women were on board the merchant vessel. As he swung aboard the other vessel, he was shocked to notice that it seemed to be a family, and quite wealthy by the looks of it too.

There was a tall, distinguished man with a head of dark chestnut curls, who appeared to be the father, being held back by Starr and Isaac Stringer. He hurled curses at every one of Jakes men, and threatened to kill them all.

Jake grinned briefly at the man's show of defiance, weak as it was, considering he had very little chance of survival.

An older woman, with fiery red hair that reminded him of another, much younger woman, was obviously the mother, from the way she was trying to get at the two younger women.

Both were as striking as their mother and father, one with long dark tresses, and the other with auburn ones, who were being held back by, as luck would have it, his two youngest crewmen, Rory O'Donnell, and Andre de Flours. Rory, Sixteen, and Andre, seventeen, could not appear to be more smitten.

"Damn it all to hell." Jake muttered though no one could hear him. This was _not_ how he wanted his newest Crewmen to be introduced to the life of a pirate.

You didn't see beautiful women every time you raided a ship! Though he had to admit, the young women weren't seeming to be any less smitten, how often did you get to be captured by a handsome young pirate? And practically held in their arms no less?

* * *

"What's going on here Lieutenant?" Jake asked in a nonchalant tone, as if he was talking about the weather. But the deadly tone in his voice silenced all noise.

All eyes turned to look at the tall, dark, and most certainly handsome, young man that had just boarded the ship. His chocolate, golden colored eyes roamed the band of people crowding the deck.

Black strands of his hair had escaped the queue he'd tied it back in, and blew across his face in the breeze. His white sleeves billowed in the wind as well. Maroon sash, bare cutlass tucked into it, brown breeches, and black knee-high polished boots completed his ensemble.

And as abruptly as the noise stopped, it started again, but this time from the small family before him. And they weren't begging for his mercy like they should've been.

"Make those rogues let my daughters go! I command you!" The tall man shouted in defiant anger.

"Je ne suis pas un escroc, how dare you call me a rogue!" Andre shouted in anger. Jake had to resist from grinning when the girl in his arms practically swooned, after the boy started speaking in French.

Rory also raised his Scottish burr into the mix;

"I canna understand why you call me that sirruh. Every man must live as he sees fit, but what I do for a livin' doesna make me that which you call me. "

Suddenly the mother spoke for the first time;

"How dare you make young men, who could do honorable things with their lives, turn to piracy, you should be ashamed!"

Jake's face darkened with anger under his tan. How dare she!

"My dear Lady, it is not I who "turn them to the piratical ways" as you so bluntly put it.

It is your country!

The Young Scotsman was branded a spy, I rescued him from the noose.

The young Frenchman, he was labeled a traitor to The Crown, I saved him as well, I saved both from unjust treatment from The Crown!"

"I should kill you both and give your daughters to them as fair trade for the lives and relatives they were forced to leave behind!"

The tall man strained against his captors as Jake hurled the insulting threat across the deck, the woman who had spoken whimpered in fear.

Jake noted with annoyance, that, while the young women were frightened, they looked as if they were pondering the thought, both girls glancing up and back at the tall young men who held them.

Jake started to make motions as if he was about to carry out this threat, when the girls started crying and begging him to stop.

"Please, no! don't kill them! We'll do anything you say - even go with you if we must, just don't kill them!" The two boys glanced at Jake, he nodded, and they let the girls go. As they ran to their mother, the proud woman begged,

"Please spare us, or my brother-in-law, Lord Forster, will not stop searching for you until he's sure you're dead, and our deaths avenged!"

"Susan! you should never give in to these scoundrels!" He husband scolded, although secretly, he was quite proud of his wife for speaking up. Jake stopped abruptly.

"Whose name did you say? Speak up woman!" Jake demanded impatiently.

"Lord Forster." She replied, and raised her chin, thinking that perhaps this pirate leader feared her brother-in-law. Oh how wrong she was!

"Does he have a red-haired vixen for a daughter?" Jake asked, trying to show indifference.

"He has a red-haired daughter, but she is not a vixen!" Susan responded, offended.

It was her husband, Count Andrew, who noticed it wasn't fear that he read in the young man's eyes, but something about the way they man had said 'vixen' as if he didn't like that term, made him study the young man more. That's when he hit upon it.

Love.

This pirate leader, who seemed to have the adoration of all his crew, and hate of the crown coursing strongly through him, was in love with Lord Wyatt Forster's daughter, Samantha! Perhaps he could use that.

Jake groaned inwardly when realization dawned in Darrell's eyes, as well as the eyes of the tall British aristocrat. This could not be happening!

Andrew looked the pirate directly in the eyes, and was shocked by what he saw there, _Say nothing._ his eyes begged, _please_. As the leader strode closer, Andrew noticed uncertainty in his stride.

"I want to speak to you in private, will you go this way please?" The pirate captain asked, motioning to the cabin Count Andrew had been in only minutes before. He nodded, the men holding him released him and he walked ahead of the pirate. after the man had closed the door and turned around, Andrew fired his first question.

"How do you know my niece?"

The young man sighed before answering.

"I met her at a ball, and she's the most captivating and charming lady I've ever met, but I'll do best to stay far away from her, to protect her."

"You love her?" Andrew asked point blank.

"I don't know, I fear that I do. By the way, I'm Captain Jacob Ely, and you are...?"

"Forgive me, Count Andrew of Blackstone."

"Well, Count, it seems you're in a bit of a spot. I can do whatever I want with you and your family, and you can't do anything to stop me. It also appears that my two youngest members have taken a liking to your daughters. Something I don't want to encourage, but your daughters aren't helping any."

"I take it they've heard all the romantic tales of pirates?"

"Yes, and believe me I don't like it either. You can't imagine how hard it is for me their father to have to watch them behave in such ways."

"Thank-you for your time, don't you ever dare breathe a word of what we've discussed to anyone, or I'll find you and slit your throat so fast you won't feel it. I'm going to let you go, but only because Samantha would want me to."

Andrew nodded in reply as Jake opened the door, back to the small world of the ship's deck.

"Haul wind, and slack those braces men! We're moving out! The cargo isn't worth our time! Lets go find some that is, shall we?"

Jake was answered with a rousing cheer from his crew, and a sigh of relief from Andrew's.

Andrew's oldest daughter at fifteen, Jessica, kissed Andre before he jumped across. Looking slightly bewildered for a mere instant, then getting the drift of how this worked, he put his arm around her and drew her towards him for a longer, deeper kiss, swung across just as her father came to pull her away from him. He grinned from his place on the rigging and said;

"Au revoir, mademoiselle! Until we met again Monsieur?"

Jessica, looking unnecessarily flushed, and happy after just kissing a boy she was most likely never to see again and had just met, sighed and said to no one in particular as _The Sea Enchantress _sailed away;

"Why do all the handsome boys have to be pirates?"

_"Oh, the pain it must be to love a pirate." _Her father thought, thinking about Samantha. he wondered how she faired, and did she know? He left the side of his daughter to go find his wife, and tell her the reason they had escaped with their lives, and their cargo.

_"I must say, that is quite a suiting name for that ship."_ he thought as he entered his wife's cabin.

* * *

**Well? Please tell me what you think! the name of Jake's ship has nothing whatsoever to do with the title of the story! W.H. 1492**


End file.
